


that still sounds a little gay to me, man

by ithilien22



Category: As the World Turns
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-22
Updated: 2010-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-13 00:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ithilien22/pseuds/ithilien22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Casey Hughes isn't gay. But he did sort of have sex with a guy, once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	that still sounds a little gay to me, man

As soon as Casey Hughes opens the door to Yo's he hears it – the belligerent shouting of someone who probably should have been cut off several hours ago. It isn't until he's a few steps inside that he realizes he actually recognizes the voice.

"Do you even know who my father is?" Luke Snyder slurs, glaring angrily at the bartender. "I make one phone call and you end up at the bottom of Lake Michigan in a pair of cement shoes!"

Casey can't help but cringe inwardly. _Cement shoes, Luke? Really?_

"We're playing the mobster angle now?" he asks, joining his friend at the bar.

"Casey?"

The bartender eyes him wearily and Casey wonders just how long Luke has actually been sitting here.

"You know you're not supposed to be drinking," Casey reminds him, absently drumming his fingers against the bar.

"Thanks, _mom_ ," Luke spits back, stumbling as he tries to get off the stool.

Casey reaches out to steady him, but Luke shoves him away. He doesn't think he's ever really seen Luke like this before. Even after the student election when he punched Casey in the face right in this very same bar, he still didn't have the sad, beaten-down look in his eyes that he does now.

But honestly, a drunk, sad Luke Snyder is about the last thing Casey needs tonight. All he wanted was to go someplace quiet and to maybe have a few drinks – or seven – until Ali's voice stopped bouncing around in his head. But Luke being here pretty much ensures that a change of plans is in order.

It's not a good night for people in general, it seems, because a loud fight starts up in the back of the bar and the bartender rushes off to break it up. One of the guys looks a little like Mick Dante, which makes something ugly twist up inside Casey's stomach. _Fuck, he needs a drink_.

But when he turns back around, Luke is heading towards the door and Casey knows he can't just let him leave by himself. With one last longing look at the bottles of alcohol that line the back of the bar, Casey pushes off the stool and follows Luke, reaching out and grabbing his friend's arm to stop him.

"Come on, man, you don't seriously think I'm going to let you drive home like this?"

"'m not going home," Luke practically snarls, wrenching his arm out of Casey's grasp. "I hate it there. 's empty."

Casey sighs. He pulls his own keys out and dangles them in front of Luke. "Then how about you come sleep it off at my place?" he suggests. He figures that would probably be better than dropping Luke off drunk at the Snyder Farm or at his mother Lily's house. Besides, once Luke's passed out on his couch, Casey figures he can always come back out for a drink of his own.

He expects for Luke to be obstinate, maybe even to fight him, but instead he just shrugs, following Casey out to his car without much protest. It's a good ten minute drive to Casey's apartment, but Luke is suddenly and surprisingly quiet during the trip. Casey turns on the radio and rolls down the windows, hoping that Luke's silence isn't a sign that he's about to puke all over Casey's dash.

Thankfully, they make it back to his place without incident. Casey fumbles with the key for a few minutes – the lock _always_ seems to stick – and then they're inside. Luke heads right for the couch and sprawls across it, like he's been here a million times. But really this is only the second time Luke has ever been to Casey's apartment. In fact, the only other time was when he and his boyfriend Noah helped Casey move in.

"So do you want to tell me why you were drinking tonight?" Casey asks conversationally, heading towards the small, open kitchen.

Luke's charming reply of "Fuck you," floats back to him from the living room. Casey grabs a glass from the cabinet and fills it with water from the tap before heading back out to Luke and setting the glass down on the coffee table in front of him.

"Here," Casey instructs, "drink this."

"Rather drink this," Luke replies, pulling a full-sized vodka bottle out from inside his jacket like he's some kind of magician. It's still almost a third full.

"Where did you get that?" Casey demands, grabbing it out of Luke's hands before he can take a proper drink.

"Hey!" Luke cries, trying unsuccessfully to snatch it back. "That's mine!"

"Yeah right, more like you stole it from Yo's when the bartender wasn't looking," Casey realizes. He shakes his head, wondering if maybe he should've just taken Luke to his parents' after all. "Dude, what is going on with you?"

"What do you care?" Luke bites back sullenly.

"We're friends," Casey reminds him.

"Are we?" Luke asks.

"Well, you're being a complete drunken asshole and yet I'm still letting you crash on my couch rather than calling your parents, so what do you think?" Casey retorts. The words come out a bit more harsh than he means them to but maybe that's a good thing, since Luke seems to deflate slightly upon hearing them, his shoulders sagging back into the couch cushions.

"I'm sorry, Case. I don't mean to be a jerk," he says after a moment, voice rough. "I just fucking miss him."

"Noah?" Casey asks, even though there's no one else Luke could possibly be talking about. "I thought he was just down at that rehab clinic for his eyes or whatever."

"He is," Luke tells him, "but before he left he said that this was it, you know? That he 'couldn't be what I needed right now' or some stupid shit like that."

 _Fuck_. It's so fucking close to what Ali had said to him the last time they talked that hearing Luke say those same words sort of feels like someone's just slid a knife right into Casey's gut.

"That's sucks," he manages to say aloud. "I know the feeling."

"What do you know? You have Ali," Luke slurs out, confused, and the knife in Casey's stomach twists in a little bit further.

"I don't think I ever really _had_ Ali," Casey replies, because he doesn't trust himself to say anything else. Besides, looking back, it's probably true.

Luke just looks even more confused. "I thought you were like, getting married, or something?"

"Well, you know what they say about believing everything you hear," Casey mutters. This was the last thing on earth he wanted to think about tonight. That's why he'd gone to Yo's in the first place.

At that moment, he realizes he's still holding onto Luke's pilfered vodka bottle. Almost without thinking, he lifts it to his lips and takes a long pull. _Much better._

"Hey! Why do you get to have some?" Luke whines.

"Because I'm not an alcoholic with a kidney problem?" Casey ventures sarcastically. He knows somewhere in the back of his mind that it really isn't a good idea to get drunk when he's supposed to be the one looking after Luke, but that doesn't stop him from continuing to nurse the vodka in his hands.

"Well, it's still not the same thing," Luke continues petulantly, his gaze lingering on the bottle. "If you and Ali really are over this time than that just means you'll be sad for like two seconds until the next one comes around. 'Cause girls are like, they're like _everywhere_."

Casey tries to follow this logic but it seems to lead somewhere just beyond his reach. Besides, the vodka is starting to make his thoughts go soft around the edges.

What he does know, however, is that Luke is making light of his pain and that is just...not cool. He gets that Luke is in a bad place right now, but so is he, damnit! He was supposed to get _married_ , for fuck's sake.

"You think it's that easy for me to move on?" he asks, incredulously. "I love her!"

"So?" Luke snaps back automatically. "You loved Maddie and yet you seemed to get over her pretty quickly."

Casey bristles at the mention of Maddie's name. Luke of all people should know that was one of the most difficult periods of his entire life.

"Oh yeah, right," he retorts, voice rising. "I guess I just forgot all about her. That year in prison was just the best, wasn't it?"

Luke rolls his eyes, not taking the bait. "I'm just saying, you always have other options, if you want one."

"What, and you don't?" The bottle in Casey's hand is empty now – _how did that happen?_ – and he's finding that the floor has gone kind of crooked all of a sudden, so he sits down on the couch next to Luke as he speaks. "What, like, Noah Mayer is the only guy on the planet for you or something?"

"What if he is?" The question comes out so tiny and vulnerable-sounding that it somehow makes all the anger that's been building up inside of Casey vanish on the spot. Unfortunately, without the anger he's just left with an overwhelming urge to curl up into a ball and cry. Or call Ali. Or maybe both at once.

Casey slumps back into the couch, his shoulder brushing up against Luke's. He's hit with a random déjà vu memory of the two of them from way back when they were maybe 8 or 9 – before they got to junior high and developed their own cliques of friends – just sitting together like this out at the lake, shoulder to shoulder. He doesn't remember now what they were doing out there or any of the details, just that it was nice, peaceful.

But they were kids then. They hadn't yet learned that the world would one day chew their hearts into tiny little pieces and then spit them back out again, all chewed-up and worthless.

"Maybe it's better if there is only one person out there for you," Casey manages to say, eventually, though his tongue feels oddly heavy in his mouth. "Then at least you'll only have to go through the pain once, you know?"

"Yeah," Luke agrees bitterly, "and then I'll just be alone for the rest of my life."

"Come on, you're not going to be alone," Casey says, but it sounds hollow even to him. Some reflex inside his head is still screaming _cheer him up!_ and _pep talk!_ but when he tries to think of positive things to say, all he comes up with is 'people will always disappoint you,' and he knows that would be the wrong thing to say. Probably.

"He's not coming home," Luke says softly. His voice is shaky and when Casey looks over, he realizes that it's because Luke has started to cry. Which… _fuck_.

"Hey, hey," Casey says in what he hopes is a soothing voice. He can only manage to pull Luke into an awkward half-hug since they're still sitting side by side on the couch, but he figures it's the least he can do after getting drunk and wallowing in his own shit instead of trying to help an obviously self-destructive friend in need.

After a moment, he feels something wet brush against the side of his neck and it takes him a minute to realize that Luke is _kissing him_. He's so stunned that he just sits there, immobile, as he feels Luke kissing up to his jaw, his cheek.

Then Luke's mouth is covering his own and Casey's brain seems to short-circuit. All he can think is that they were just talking a second ago and now Luke's stubble is sort of making his chin itch, which is weird. There's also some sort of fuzzy thought that this is wrong for some reason but he can't remember why. He doesn't have a girlfriend because Allison dumped him, he remembers that much.

 _Oh, right_ , he suddenly remembers. _Luke is a dude._

But when this fact finally registers it just seems to short-circuit Casey's brain on a whole new level. "Hey, what – what are you doing?" he hears himself ask hazily, trying to pull back from Luke.

But Luke just keeps clinging to him, clutching at Casey's shirt, his arms. He's still crying, Casey realizes vaguely. "Please, Case," Luke whispers, voice think and desperate, "please, please. I'll make it so good, I promise. I promise. Please."

Luke is beyond drunk and Casey feels like he should point this out to someone. But he doesn't know if it will sound very convincing, since he's pretty sure he lost the ability to pronounce 'R's somewhere around the time the vodka bottle became empty.

"We're drunk," he decides on stating instead (the 'R's indeed coming out slightly wobbly). He thinks the 'we' makes it sound less accusatory.

"Please," Luke repeats, ignoring Casey's declaration. His fingers are pushing down against Casey's jeans – _rubbing_ – and Casey suddenly knows exactly what Luke is asking for.

"Fuck," he breathes, trying to still Luke's movements. "I'm not, I mean. Fuck. You know we can't…"

"It doesn't have to mean anything, Case," Luke murmurs, his face still remarkably close to Casey's own. "I'll make it so good, I promise. So good. So good."

Luke keeps repeating himself like a mantra or a chant or something. His fingers have escaped Casey's grasp and made their way back down to his jeans. One hand moves to undo Casey's belt and the other just keeps…rubbing.

Casey could just shove him off. He might not be that much bigger than Luke, but with the amount of alcohol Luke has in his system, Casey thinks he could probably take him. Even if the room does keep spinning slightly.

But he doesn't move to push Luke away. He feels kind of sick and his head is starting to buzz, but Luke's hands are nice and the truth is that Casey doesn't really want him to stop. He thinks that thought alone probably means he's heading into serious gay territory here, but he figures a hand is just a hand, regardless of whose it is. Besides, he and Luke probably won't even remember this in the morning, so it doesn't really count, right?

Luke's got his belt and the button on his jeans undone and is slowly lowering the zipper. His mouth is still somewhere around Casey's collarbone, which Casey thinks is at least slightly better than Luke trying to kiss him on the mouth again.

He feels Luke tug at his jeans and he takes the hint, lifting his hips slightly so that Luke can pull them down towards his knees. Luke's hands are gone for a second and Luke brings one up to his own face, licking a long stripe up his palm before bringing it back down to wrap around Casey's cock.

Casey groans, canting his hips involuntarily. He hasn't realized that he's closed his eyes until he opens them right into Luke's steady gaze, which just reminds him that a guy's – Luke's – hands are the ones currently stroking along his dick. He quickly closes his eyes again.

"Case," Luke whispers softly, plaintively. "Can I…? I just. Please?"

Casey reluctantly opens his eyes. Luke looks sad and kind of embarrassed. He licks his lips and lowers his gaze, but his hand keeps its steady movements. Casey wonders if maybe Luke wants to kiss him again or something, but he hadn't exactly asked permission the first time, so why now?

"What?" Casey prompts, a soft moan escaping his lips as Luke's thumb brushes against the head of his cock.

"Can I suck you?" Luke asks in a rush, gaze still firmly fixed on the couch.

Casey's mind blanks and his hips snap up harder into Luke's fist. "Yeah, fuck," he hears himself say, and he wonders if saying yes to something like that crosses the line of simple drunken shenanigans. But Ali didn't really like going down on him, and the last time he can remember getting an offer like this was on his birthday, almost eight months ago. So…fuck lines.

Barely a second passes before Luke has leaned down and taken him into his mouth, startling an embarrassing _whimper_ from Casey's lips, his eyes snapping back shut. His hands reach out and touch Luke's shoulders before settling in his hair, more from habit than anything else.

Luke takes him all the way in, humming around him, his tongue running along the underside and one of his hands rubbing against Casey's balls. "Nnnggh," Casey says, trying and failing not to thrust further into that wet heat. "Fuck, you're amazing."

He starts to hear other sounds beyond Luke's ministrations and he realizes that Luke is jacking himself as he sucks Casey – that he's getting off to it. He feels Luke swallow around his dick and he almost loses it right there.

He takes a steadying breath and reaches over, stilling Luke's hand before replacing it with his own. Luke's movements still for a moment, but then he continues, a soft moan coming out slightly choked from his stretched throat. Casey doesn't really know what to do, so he just pretends that he's jacking himself, sticking to the movements that he likes the best. He definitely doesn't let himself think about what it means for his hand to be wrapped around some other guy's cock.

Whatever he's doing, it must be working okay, because the little choked moans from Luke are coming in a constant stream now and Casey can feel each one of them ghost over his cock. "Oh, fuck," he gasps, feeling the pressure start to build. "I'm gonna…"

But Luke doesn't pull off. If anything, he sucks harder, swallows him down further. It's more than Casey can take and he tips over the edge, pulling against Luke's scalp as his come empties down Luke's throat. Finally, Luke pulls back, coughing a little. Casey feels like his whole body has gone numb, but when he closes his eyes it's like he can still feel his orgasm rippling through him.

After a moment, he feels Luke's weight slump back into the couch beside him, and Casey realizes that he's still holding Luke's hard cock, although his movements have stilled. It feels weirder somehow, now that it's just him, but he thinks it would be a pretty douchebag move to make Luke finish himself off after he just gave Casey the most mind-blowing blowjob of his life.

So he starts to stroke again, trying to do it just like before, like he does to himself. He looks over at Luke and his eyes are closed, his mouth parted slightly, lips puffy and extra red. _I did that_ , he thinks drunkenly, and starts to stroke a bit harder.

Luke lets out a little breathy sound and pushes up against his hand and suddenly he's coming, spilling out over his thighs and Casey's hand. It's sort of gross, but then, Casey's come is currently _inside_ of Luke, so he's doesn't think he has much room to complain.

Casey lets Luke's cock falls out of his grasp and then wipes his hand against his t-shirt. Luke continues to make these soft sounds of contentment, his hand snaking up to wrap around the back of Casey's neck, pulling him down until they're sort of lying on the couch together. Casey feels kind of sweaty and gross and his jeans are still bunched around his knees, but he also feels…relaxed. All the tension and anxiety that's been building up over the past few weeks is just gone. For awhile there, he sort of felt like he was drowning. But now here he is, safe on dry land.

Luke opens his eyes and blinks up at him sleepily. He traces Casey's jaw with his fingers. "Thanks," he whispers.

"I should be the one thanking you," Casey murmurs back, but Luke is already asleep.

-

When Casey wakes up the next morning, he feels like absolute shit. He doesn't really remember last night, but his mouth tastes like feet, so he's guessing it involved vodka. There's also a flutter in his stomach that says maybe it involved sex, but he just woke up in his own bed, alone, so he hopes that part was just a dream and that he didn't actually hook up with some random girl last night.

He sits up slowly, rubbing at the pounding behind his temples. A loud _crash_ sounds from his living room and Casey is suddenly very awake. So he _did_ bring a girl home. _Fuck._

He gets out of bed quickly, but then has to lean on the doorjamb for a minute until the room stops spinning. When he does manage to make it out of his bedroom, instead of seeing some random girl from Yo's, Luke Snyder is crouched down on the floor in front of the door to his apartment, picking up a stack of cd's that seems to have fallen off of the console table. He looks even worse than Casey feels – his shirt untucked and his shoes slung over his shoulder like he didn't think he had time to put them back on or something.

"Hey, Case," Luke says, pointedly looking anywhere but up at him. "I was just about to take off. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"You didn't," Casey tells him. The night before is coming swimming back to him now – finding Luke at Yo's, commiserating about their break-ups….Luke's mouth on his cock.

Luke finishes re-stacking the cd's on the table and his hand lingers awkwardly on the top cd for a moment, as if he wishes he had another to pick up just so he'd have something to do with his hands.

"Okay, so I'm gonna go," he says finally, turning to the door without once looking back at Casey.

"Hey, man, wait," Casey says, because he has a feeling that if he lets Luke leave now they'll never be friends again, and he knows that's not what he wants. "Come on, at least have some coffee."

Luke finally turns around and looks at him. "I'm so embarrassed, Case," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so, so sorry about last night. You were so great to stop me from drinking and get me out of that dingy bar and then I repay you by like, _molesting you_ in your own apartment."

Casey actually laughs at that, he can't help it. But it doesn't last very long, because the sound is _way_ too loud for his head right now. Luke looks at him like he's crazy.

"Dude, you didn't molest me," Casey assures him. "We were both feeling pathetic and very, very drunk. Shit happens, you know?"

"You're not pissed off at me?" Luke asks. He seems genuinely surprised, and relieved.

Casey starts to shake his head but discovers that's also a bad idea this morning. "Man, these past few weeks I've been about ready to like, jump off a bridge, or something else crazy like that, you know?"

Luke's smile is crooked. "Yeah. Me too."

The silence stretches for a moment, but it doesn't really feel awkward anymore. It's actually even kind of nice. Weird as the circumstances are, Casey has to admit that it's really great to wake up with someone else in the apartment besides him. He could actually make a full pot of coffee if he wanted to, instead of just brewing enough for one.

"But this doesn't mean I'm like, gay, or anything," Casey qualifies. Not that it really even needs to be said, but still.

This time it's Luke who laughs.

"We're really okay?" he asks, a little doubtfully.

Casey takes a few steps forward and engulfs Luke in a very manly, one-armed hug. "Of course we are, man," he says, and Luke hugs him just a little bit tighter.

When Casey finally pulls back, he leans up against the wall and traces the edge of the rug with his foot. He thinks about the coffeemaker again. "You know, I heard what you said last night about your place being really empty now," he stammers out awkwardly, "and I dunno. I mean, I'm kind of feeling the same way since Ali left. I mean, I'm just saying, if you wanted to, you know, crash here for a while, that'd be totally fine."

He must sound like an idiot, but it's early and he hasn't had any coffee and he thinks he may even still be a little drunk from last night. But Luke is smiling at him, nodding his head.

"I would really love that, actually," he says, voice small but sincere. "I miss having a friend around."

And all at once, Casey is nine again, looking out across the lake, shoulder to shoulder with his best friend.

"Yeah," Casey agrees, smiling softly, "me too."


End file.
